


How to wake up in the mornings

by MintandChocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel isn't a morning person, Drabble, Fighting and making up, Fluff, Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of morning sex, human!Cas, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintandChocolate/pseuds/MintandChocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months after the fall, Castiel started finding out more nice ways for being welcomed back into consciousness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to wake up in the mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by [crankystiel](http://www.crankystiel.tumblr.com).

Castiel hated early mornings.

No, scratch that. He hated alarm clocks and their awfully noisy sounds shocking him awake, whatever the time. The problem was not the time itself, but the ways.

Suddenly switching on his bedroom lights or blasting rock music while he was still asleep were not the wisest choices to make, unless you wanted to deal with a moody and pissed Castiel for the rest of the day, as Dean had learnt the hard way—who would have known Castiel had such a good aim with his eyes closed? The shoe had left an angry bruise on his arm for days. After a few weeks of sharing the bunker, the Winchesters had come to the conclusion that they should either let him join the world of the living whenever he pleased or leave a steamy mug filled with hot, black coffee on his nightstand and let the strong smell do the job.

Three months after the fall, Castiel started finding out more nice ways for being welcomed back into consciousness.

One of them, which he particularly loved, was to wake up to Dean's naked back firmly pressed to his equally shirtless chest, one arm wrapped around the hunter's waist, his hand resting over a steady-beating heart. The warmth of the man's body never failed to relax him, and the feeling of Dean, safe and sleepily smiling, being in his arms where he could plant soft kisses all along his shoulders and the back of his neck... Those were certainly some of the best mornings he'd ever had.

On the other hand, he also happened to like waking up at the other end of the cuddles (yes, Dean, that's what they're called, don't even try to deny it). At first, it had been just about comfort, something reserved for those nights when the weight of all his past mistakes felt heavier than he could resist on his own, so Dean would hug him while he sobbed quietly into his pillow (damn human emotions, how did people cope?) and then he'd fall asleep, exhausted from crying and helped by soothing hands caressing any inch of skin they could get and loving lips pressing reassuring kisses to his hair. Dean was always there when he woke up, usually already awake and waiting to make sure Castiel was okay.

The former angel also discovered how unusual it was to wake up before Dean did, and so he enjoyed the rare occasions in which he opened his eyes to see Dean's relaxed face, mouth slightly open to let out really soft snores. Sometimes he'd simply watch him, thanking his Father for letting him have this, have him; some other times, if he had slept particularly well, he'd get bored and start peppering light kisses all over his neck, slowly rolling him till he laid on his back, and then he'd trail off down his chest and hips, scraping his teeth over his hipbones while carefully sliding down Dean's pajama bottoms.

Needless to say, lazy morning sex was one of Castiel's favourites, whether he got to ride Dean into full consciousness or just fuck him gently until they were both panting and shivering, desperate for release.

Sadly, he had also found the only way in which he never wanted to wake up again. The sheets felt cold and the bed too big in the morning after he and Dean fought, the sound of Dean's and his own angry words and the door slamming shut behind one of them still fresh in his mind. They didn't fight often, but it was almost always over the same stuff: Castiel wanted to help, even if that meant putting his life at risk during hunts, and Dean worried too much sometimes. With the thrill of adrenaline still coursing through their blood, they would shout at each other rather hard and hurtful things before one of them snapped and stormed off the room to calm down and try to sleep in other of the many bedrooms in the bunker.

After their first and only significant fight, which had ended up with them not talking to each other for three days until Dean couldn't stand it anymore, they had promised in between kisses to never let days go by without at least trying to fix things up.

And then, Castiel's least favourite mornings would turn into something a little less bitter, when Dean silently opened the door and sat on the bed right next to Castiel's legs with his face hidden in shadows, though it was never dark enough for the blue-eyed man not to catch his expression, and the faint lines tears had drawn down his cheeks. Not a full second later, he'd be sinking his face between Dean's shoulder blades, hiding his own reddened eyes against his skin; muttered apologies filling the air as Castiel's arms rounded the other man's body and hugged him tight, Dean's hands grabbing him with equal strenght.

Not too long after, they'd be falling back into the matress and cuddling back to sleep, Castiel hoping the next time he woke up his limbs would still be tangled with those of his dearest.


End file.
